To Have Wishes or Love

Chapter 1:Cleaning and Boxing Dust

I looked around my grandmother’s old dust ridden home. My eyes roamed around the room. She was such a hoarder. No matter where I looked there were just more knick-knacks.

I let out a heavy sigh and plopped down the giant cardboard box I’d been holding. How am I supposed to clean and pack this entire house myself?

My mother was too much of a mess to even come into the house and my dad had to comfort her. I had never seen my mother so distraught.

 I opened the nearest display case and began to pack away the millions of gaudy ceramics and other random items. I spent hours packing and managed to finish packing away the first hutch. Considering it enough, I headed home.

 The next Sunday I came to clean I decided to start in her bedroom. Pale shades of brown filled the room and oriental carpets covered the ground.  It reminded me of the time my parents had brought me to Saudi Arabia to show me my mother’s heritage. Of course it didn’t affect me since I’m adopted anyway.

I always stuck out like a sore thumb when I was with my family. They all had soft caramel skin and dark black hair I had pale white skin and dirty blond hair.

I hate that I’m adopted. Everyone in my family takes pride in their Saudi Arabian heritage. My grandmother had moved to America with my grandfather. They had three children: my mom, aunt, and uncle. No matter where I went, I was having heritage shoved down my throat. Even at my grandmother’s funeral! It was all ceremonial and stuff. It almost drove me to be sick.

Steeling my nerves I decided to just get this over with and walked towards the trunk at the end of the bed.

My hands roughly opened the lid ignoring the beautifully ornate carving on the outside. The contents were carelessly tossed into the box next to me. My reminiscing of my family and how it was all my grandmother’s fault left me feeling angry and hollow. My motions were harsh and without thought as the priceless heirlooms were carelessly tossed in the box.